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The Art Room { a short story }

I sit there by my easel, looking over my paint colors and the white canvas sitting in front of my eyes. Nothing touched. Everything blank. I take a paint brush one size smaller than the biggest and dip it in the nearest color, orange. I glide my brush along the top of the canvas. ehh... Not quite what I wanted. I take the canvas down and replace it with another. I sit there, wondering if he is looking. Ever since the day I met those blue eyes I could never get him out of my mind. I wonder what he is painting, I see his brush move in different directions. He has always been the best in the class, I admired that. And when he talked, happiness filled the room faster than a blink of an eye. I bite down on my lip, hard. I can’t think about him in that way, not that there is a problem with it, it’s just he couldn’t possibly have the same feelings for me as I do for him.

I stare at the canvas again. Nothing. Why is it so hard for me to paint today?

After a while, I look up at the clock. Thirty minutes has passed and class is almost over. I already see students exiting the room. I look over behind me and see him talking to Ms. Cassandra. Every now and then I see their eyes glance across the room, at me. Quickly, I turn back around to my easel and empty canvas, hoping they didn’t see me staring. I pretend to be busy looking over my paint colors, not trying to listen in on their conversation.

I feel a hand brush the top of my shoulder. Turning around, I find myself looking into those ocean blue eyes and I feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. “Hey.” he smiles and takes the seat next to mine. I look around the room and find no one, not even Ms. Cassandra.

“Hi,“ I manage to say with a smile, trying not to make eye contact so I won’t have to get lost in those eyes again.

“You know,“ he holds out his hand for my paint brush. “May I?“ I nod and hand him the brush. “Sometimes when I’m stuck,“ he dips the brush in the red paint. “I dig deep into my thoughts and try to paint something from there.“

“How do you know I’m stuck?“ I smirk, playfully.

“You’ve been staring at a white canvas for the past half hour, I know when someone is stuck.“ and he is right, I am stuck. But not in the same way he thinks I am.

“Sometimes,“ he begins to make a curved line in a corner on the canvas. “You just have to find a feeling,“ he makes another curve. “and let it out.“ And that’s when I see it, a heart. But he isn’t finished, yet. Inside the heart he writes a message, and that’s when I’m staring at the red letters with wide eyes that spell out: I like you.

I look up at him, stunned and speechless. I search his eyes and that is when he reaches his hand out toward my cheek. “a lot.“ Gently, I feel his lips brush against mine and I close my eyes, taking in every bit of this moment. If this was a dream, I hope I never wake.

I feel himself pull away too soon. “I, um, guess I'll see you later then.“ He slowly stands and turns to leave.

“ I like you too. “ I say, a little too quickly. “ A lot. “

I see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. And with a smile, he leaves the room.

I sit there, alone, taking in the scent of paint, thoughts, feelings, and love.

oh Rosie, I can't tell you how many times I read and re-read your comment, AND smiled every time. <3 Thank you so much, what you said up there means the world to me. YOU mean the world to me. :) But with all honesty, YOU are still FAR more talented at writing than I'll ever be. I have improved, but mainly because I've been reading your writings the past few months. ;)

I love to paint and love romance stories! This is everytyhing I love. You should write more to this. I WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENES! Wonderful :) I bet Josh would love this. He would mary you in a heart beat if he read this!!! XD